The Uncanny Slayers
by Chris Oddland
Summary: A SlayersX-Men crossover. What happens when mutants start to appear in the Slayers universe? Four unlikely characters are chosen to defend a world that fears and hates them. This is their story.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Slayers or any Marvel characters

Note: The first chapter uses elements from Giant-Size X-Men #1

Gourry. Jillas. Gravos. Amelia. Children of the atom, students of Charles Xavier, MUTANTS - feared and hated by the world they have sworn to protect. These are the STRANGEST heroes of all!

Seygram13 presents: The Uncanny Slayers

Chapter 1: A gathering of unlikely heroes

====

Location: Arroyo, a remote village

Gourry was drinking.

He was drinking in the village inn, drowning his sorrows.

The feeling of ultimate betrayal and the pain of limitless abuse weighed heavily on his armoured shoulders.

The cause of this pain: Lina Inverse.

Always hitting him foe every mistake he made. Mocking his intelligence. "Cannon Fodder" for every enemy encountered.

And finally the discovery of her sleeping with the chimera behind his back.

That was the final straw. The end of the line.

He had protected her against numerous foes and monstrosities alike. Hell, even jumped into the Sea of Chaos for her sake!!!!!!

And finding her naked in the arms of an also naked Zelgadis was the sign of what she really thought about him.

Just a Jellyfish Brain. A mercenary. Just a stupid swordsman. Her self-proclaimed protector.

Why didn't she see what he really felt for her? What he did for her?

He faced Gaav the Chaos Dragon, he even lost his Sword of Light temporarily when defending her from Valgaav.

He sometimes even acted chivalrous towards her, in a few moments where he hoped she would see his true feelings.

Swearing in Elmekian, Gourry began to block out any thoughts about Lina, and began a quick summary of past events before meeting the redheaded bitch.

He was a promising example of the perfect Elmekian soldier...until he struck down an officer in rage. He was court-martialed and sent to penal regiment. Still his combat skills outdid any of the special units in the Elmekian military and he did get promoted to a Corporal after being almost killed in several meaningless battles. And that officer was reported killed by the enemy, despite sightings of Gourry carrying a loaded crossbow in the field and that the crossbow bolt imbedded in the officer's chest was made in Elmekia.

He remembered his friends. All of them condemned to serve in the regiment and die for the glory of Elmekia.

More like the glory of a madman's hierarchy.

He wished that he could travel back in time and throttle those fools who wrote propaganda about the virtues of war in books. Most children's books were full of lies that romanticized war and warriors.

He probably figured that he would end up as a corpse sooner or later or go totally insane.

That was until a serious message from home gave him an opportunity to desert.

Conflict and strife over an ancient weapon. A weapon of legends guarded by his family for generations. This weapon had a name: Gorn Nova, the Sword of Light.

Personally his relatives could slaughter themselves to extinction for all that he cared, but his brother was quite persuasive.

It was said that Yuri Gabriev was drafted into the Psychic Trooper programme and possessed vast psychic powers that almost made him unstoppable. At least it made him bald.

He suspected his older brother of planting the notion of deserting and stealing the family heirloom. Since they both resented the thought of the family name being centred around a magical sword. 

He also hoped that his other brother Raudy would sooner or later forgive him for piercing his leg with a sharp sword, but he deemed it more realistic that he still craved his head on a silver platter.

Luckily it seemed that Yuri was pulling some strings from the background for him. He hadn't been wanted as a deserter and a thief and a traitor to the Elmekian empire; but still he had to avoid relatives craving the powerful weapon he had stolen. How unfortunate for them that he was one of the best swordsmen in the family, but they were fortunate that he didn't kill them.

The worst thing was that he was alone. Feeling no meaning with life and having no purpose that drove him on.

Hiding in a mercenary army he met Leon and Gurays. They were his first true friends since those he left. He remembered the battles they fought in, the bloodshed that seemed to go on and on. 

Still feeling lost he left the mercenaries and began travelling the lands. Wandering without aim.

Until he met her.

His first encounter wasn't exactly what one would call the best of meetings, but gradually he began to develop feelings for her. He knew that she was underage and he an adult, but he hoped that the difference in age wouldn't be a hindrance. She gave him a reason to live.

But now things had turned sour, and nothing could ever mend the gap between them again.

Sometimes he even felt her harsh words course through him, the terrible names she called him. He tried to drown these memories with alcohol, trying to intoxicate and blur out everything.

He wondered if this was how Gurays felt when he started drinking, feeling useless and forgotten. Going insane. How he longed for battle again.

Once more war had taken another casualty in the form of his friend's sanity.

The thoughts about his old friend, and how he was forced to kill him, saddened Gourry's mood tremendously. He probably should have let him plunge his sword through Lina's back on that fateful day. He took another sip of his tankard, but there was nothing in it.

Gourry then realized that his tankard was empty and politely asked the waitress for another tankard of beer.

The waitress eyed him warily, almost scared of him, but she finally replied that she would deliver a tankard as soon as she was finished with some other customers. That he was an unusual customer was certain. Especially since it was a village populated by fox-like humanoids.

Ever since humanity's discovery of humanoids with animal-like traits, they were regarded with fear and great suspicion. In the end they were given the generalized racial term: Beastmen, hybrids between humans and animals.

Even in later years, when proven that most of these hybrids were separate races. Each belonging to their respective family, the humans still continued calling them "beastmen", almost as if it was a brand of resentment and mockery.

The foxmen were looking at him warily. No wonder. Humans weren't exactly welcome here. But he had finally managed to convince them that he had no evil intentions towards them, telling them only that he wished to rent a room and drink himself senseless.

None of them really wanted to pick a fight with him, even if he was totally drunk. They probably realized a broken-hearted drunkard when they saw one.

Raising himself up from his chair, using the table as leverage, he walked slowly towards the stairs leading to his room.

====

That was until the sounds of alarm startled all of them.

Gourry saw the panic and fear in their eyes.

The village was under attack.

His protector instinct kicked in.

He staggered of the inn to face these unknown attackers. The night sky welcomed him as he exited the door of the inn. Hearing the cries of fear coming from the now awake children and women. Hearing others call to the others to arm themselves against the attackers.

What he saw filled him with disgust.

It was a large mob of humans armed with various weapons and torches.

Their eyes shining with blind hatred. 

Their intent clear.

Extermination.

It was usual of some humans to use demihumans and humanoids as scapegoats for everything bad that happened to them. Sometimes these racistic views ended with violence and murder. Personally, Gourry didn't care if it was the usual scapegoat routine, where humans sometimes blamed beastmen for outbreaks of disease; claiming that the inferior creatures had poisoned their wells and all other things they could use to fan the flame of hatred.

He saw the bodies of three foxmen lying there, mutilated beyond recognition.

Gourry suddenly remembered something from the past. Something he wished he had forgotten. It was blurry, sometimes appearing in his most terrible nightmares. Nightmares he never told the others of.

A scorched village.

Piles of people slaughtered because they were different.

Men.... Women... Even children.

Blood everywhere. Corpses everywhere.

Signs of plunder.

The violated bodies of murdered women.

Children tortured to death.

Death everywhere.

====

These memories made Gourry's blood boil.

====

The mob never expected what they saw.

A man glowing bright with energy and unleashing a energy beam of immense power. The beam travelled towards them and suddenly exploded on impact.

Screams of terror and pain filled the air as the mob was scattered by the aftermath of the explosion. Many of them burned beyond recognition. The survivors, bleeding and singed were paralysed with fear.

Their attacker was staring at them, still glowing with energy, and with eyes filled anger.

"What is he!?"

"He's not human!"

"It's a goddamn demon!"

"Run, before it kills us all!!!"

Needless to say, the survivors fled. Running as fast as they could from the being before them. Screaming as if the gates of hell were ripped open. Fleeing into the night.

====

Gourry felt drained and exhausted. It had been a long time since he had used his power. And he only used it when he was sober. This time had been the first.

He possessed the power to generate powerful beams of supercharged plasma.

He discovered this ability as he was wandering aimlessly around the Desert of Destruction.

He remembered being furious before his body suddenly charged itself with energy. The sudden rush of power that filled him, empowering him, and how he channelled the energy coursing through him into a beam of energy. He also remembered how the beam decimated a part of the landscape, sand filling the air, and horror that he felt when he realized that he couldn't control it.

It had taken several months, but in the end he had managed to partially control the power within. As hard as it was, the training helped him clear his mind. Sadly that was only a temporary solution; depression filling him again, and how he had finally resorted to spirits and alcohol.

====

Gourry turned his head towards the villagers.

He saw fear.

Fear of the supernatural.

Fear for him.

====

Gourry almost expected them to attack him, when suddenly it felt as if time stood still.

He blinked at the sight before him. The foxmen villagers were standing like frozen statues, neither of them moving.

"Wh-What ju-just happ-happenened?" Gourry slurred to himself, as if expecting a answer to his question.

"I happened to them, Gourry Gabriev."

He turned to the direction of the voice that addressed him, and saw a bald man in a wheelchair. He thought he saw him, but he deemed it probable that the alcohol and strain was seriously beginning to affect his mind.

The man continued, " My name is Charles Xavier."

"Huh, you're my saviour?!?" Gourry thought he heard himself say, or rather tried to formulate in his drunken stupor.

Gourry could have sworn that the man would have face-faulted on the ground, very hardly, if he hadn't been confined to a wheelchair.

"No, my name is Charles Xavier!"

"So-Sorry, abou-out tha-at. Ahm ju-just ba-ad wi-th na-ames f-or so-om' re-eason," Gourry stammered/slurred to the bald stranger, and was very grateful that he wasn't smacked by a fist.

The blond mercenary waved his hand in front of the head of the nearest foxman, expecting a reaction. He didn't get any.

"How-how'd y-you do tha-at?"

"I'm a telepath."

"A tele-what?"

Charles Xavier sighed and suddenly Gourry felt that the cloud of intoxication his mind was surrounded by dissipating. His mind felt clearer than it recently had been a few hours ago.

Wow! That's some trick!" Gourry exclaimed, marvelling at the sudden miracle that had occurred. Yuri had never been able to do that.

"I am temporarily relieving you of your drunken stupor, at the moment. So I'm afraid that you'll still have a nasty hangover when the time comes."

"So you're saying that I'll still have a hangover?"

"Yes."

"Darn!" Gourry muttered.

"I know that you have trouble with controlling your powers, Gourry.

I am a teacher. I run a school for gifted youngsters such as you. school for mutants."

While Gourry had spent most of his time in the desert, he had heard the occasional rumours about people manifesting superhuman powers: mutants.

"I've heard the word." Gourry muttered.

"I can help you control your powers, Gourry."

Gourry felt that this man meant him no harm. While he was still clueless about what was happening, he knew that he needed help. Help with his ruined life, something that would re-ignite his fighting spirit.

He would show Lina that he wasn't useless. That he wasn't a retard. That he was something without her.

He was tired of feeling that he was living behind the shadow of Lina and Zel all the time. Tired of all the drinking.

(It's time to carry on. To lay everything behind yourself.) Gourry thought, feeling as if fate had something in store for him.

"If you can help me become a whole Gourry Gabriev, teacher.. I will go with you."

He hoped he knew what he was doing.

====

Location: Atlas City, a powerful city-state

It was as if hell had broken loose.

The leader nursed his broken jaw, as he and his friends saw their assailant.

It had been so easy. Just beating a defenceless half-orc to the point of death with his friends. Laughing at all the fun they had while kicking him repeatedly.

Showing their contempt of the disgusting greenskin half-breed that wandered around their fair city.

Until she came.

She was suddenly among them, her hands and feet dealing a flurry of blows at them. And grunts and screams of pain came were heard as each of these blows hit their intended targets. With seemingly ease she managed to drive all of them away from their victim, avoiding all their attacks with the incredible grace of a seasoned warrior, while dishing out pain of her own. In a matter of seconds they were all lying on the ground, sporting numerous bruises.

They were now staring in awe and fear at the person who managed to fell them like they were nothing but insects, easily swatted away.

The girl was dressed in a skin-tight black costume and wearing a black leather jacket. Her eyes shone in a blue-like flame of fury.

"Who are you?"

"I am justice," she said simply as her eyes turned white.

Suddenly the night skies were filled with dark clouds. A storm was rising. The girl was smiling as thunder rolled and several lightning bolts rained down from the sky. The mob screamed as electricity coursed through their bodies. They fell to the ground, scorched black, but alive.

"You feel big now, you filthy dogs!" She commented as she walked towards the half-orc.

Luckily he was still alive. She quickly began to utter the words of power. Healing energy surrounded her hands as she touched the body of the stricken creature that lay bleeding and bruised in front of her. As the half-orc's wounds gradually began to heal from the physical damage inflicted, he began to slightly regain his senses. When all the physical damage was removed, she helped the now conscious person up.

"Are you all right?" Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun asked him.

"Yeah, thanks to you, madam." The half-orc walked over to the unconscious man known as the leader, and promptly kicked him hard in the groin.

"Bloody bastards!" the half-orc muttered. "I'm glad that not all humans are like them!"

"Thanks for the compliment," Amelia replied. "Name's Amelia, by the way."

"I'm Darkspear, Darkspear Swordaxe. And I am grateful to be saved by such by such an attractive woman as you." Darkspear said as he kissed her right hand.

Amelia's face turned red from Darkspear's sincere words and his his "greeting".

Normally she would have socked him in the face for that approach, but lately she had been worried about the fact that her magical powers were fading. It had come as a shock to her when she discovered that she somehow had gained the power to control the weather, and she was more shocked when she became aware of that her magic was beginning to weaken. She found it impossible to cast the Ra Tilt and the Meggido Flare, and even casting the simplest spells became a strain.

And most of all, the pain.

The pain of betrayal.

Betrayal of trust and friendship.

And the pain of a broken heart.

What hurt Amelia most, was how Lina had treated Gourry throughout the years after all he had done for her. True he did make some remarks about Lina's chest and hurt her with those words, but when she saw all those bruises and scars he received, the insults towards his intelligence and behaviour, as if Lina saw him as less than human, she knew that Gourry was the victim here and not Lina. She lost all her respect for Zelgadis when she discovered what he had done. The look on Gourry's face, the sobs and tears falling as he broke down. How Lina had broken and discarded him like a toy. How Gourry ran out on the streets after the discovery.

She hated them from that day.

And her memories became blurry after that moment, but she remembered that both she and Gourry left. And that they split up after a while. Through all that she had tried to comfort him, but was unable to do so. True that she also had shed some tears through it all, but she had tackled the situation far more better. She hoped.

Then came the incident that changed her life forever.

During an assassination attempt on her father, she had somehow managed to call down lightning from the sky, electrocuting them to a pile of ashes.

She had then discovered what she was.

A mutant.

Born with the power to manipulate the weather.

Everyone began suddenly to treat her differently, as if she was another person. As if they feared her.

Around the kingdom nobles began to speak loudly against having a mutant as potential ruler, some even demanding her death to cleanse the royal bloodline of the mutant taint. Even her father was looking at her strangely.

Unable to cope with this change she fled into the underground of Atlas City, severing any threads she still had with her country.

Her world had fallen apart. It was as if everything around her had gone mad. She felt that she was going mad.

Through all these months she underwent a total change of personality.

She had grown more cynical and pessimistic towards all she had once stood for. She had laughed of the ultimate irony. She the once staunchest supporter of justice and its moral principles, had turned into a reckless vigilante. Discarding and burning her old clothes, and also smashing her remaining bracelet, she had developed a taste for sombre clothes. In particular black clothes and leather.

If Xellos was here, he would probably have the meal of his life, drawing sustenance from her negative emotions. She sometimes wondered if mazoku considered it delicate and exquisite to feed on royalty's emotions. Personally she didn't want to know what negative emotions taste like.

Actually she was beginning to enjoy her new life--the danger—-the perils--and the grim satisfaction of smiting the wicked. Heck, she even added several new tricks to her martial arts style through all her encounters with several martial artists. Most of them ending with a few cracked ribs, fractures, broken limbs, battle scars and occasionally losing a few teeth.

Mostly she fought organized crime in Atlas, sometimes even beat up muggers, robbers and everything in her way that made her see red.

Like what had happened a few moments ago.

Personally she was a little flattered by his greeting. Not that she had lost her charm, but most guys around the city weren't exactly attracted to girls in black leather. There were exceptions of course.

#Impressive display of power and skills, Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun.#

Amelia was startled by the feeling of someone talking directly to her mind. Expecting an attack, she took a standard combat pose, ready for any obstacles appearing in her path.

From the shadows appeared a man in a wheelchair.

"Who are you?"

"I am Charles Xavier, and I've come to make you an offer."

"An offer?"

"I need your help."

"Excuse me?!" a voice interrupted.

Both Amelia and Xavier turned towards Darkspear, who was looking rather sheepish at them.

"Sorry 'bout that!" he managed to mutter. "But didn't you just use telepathy?"

"Yes, I did."

"I thought so," replied the half-orc.

Personally, Amelia felt wary of this stranger in a wheelchair. What did he want with her?

"Let me take a wild guess!" Amelia said, turning to Professor X.

"You are gathering a team of super-individuals to protect a world that fears and hates them!"

"How did you know?" Professor X simply said.

Amelia responded by face-faulting hard on the ground.

(This keeps getting better and better....) Xavier mentally sighed.

"Are you all right, miss?" Darkspear said, while helping the girl up.

"Yes." was her simple response.

She then turned to Charles Xavier.

"Sorry, not interested!" was her response.

"I know that you've gone through a lot of bad things, Amelia. And that people have turned their back against you, even hating you for what you are. But still, is it right of you to turn your back to people who in the end might need you. You who once swore to defend those in need. I know what I offer is a world filled with hatred and violence, but isn't this a world worth fighting for despite all that has happened? Helping those in need?"

She knew what he was referring to: the oath she as a young cleric swore before the altar of Ceiphed. To be a candle against the darkness, fighting for a better tomorrow, bringing hope.

While she didn't actually buy his speech, she felt as if destiny had given her a choice. A far more better choice than the life she was now living. She would probably die, but she didn't care about living anymore. When the day would come, she would embrace death and accept its caress as everything turned black

"Your argument is direct and blunt." she replied seriously and darkly. "All right, I'll come with you... But for my own reasons."

"And I will accompany you." interrupted Darkspear.

Amelia looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"You saved my life, and therefore I am in your debt. Amelia, wasn't it?" he asked while giving her a friendly grin, despite his orcish appearances and canine teeth.

"Well.." Darkspear then said to the man confined to a wheelchair.

"Need any more recruits, Mr. Xavier?"

====

Location: Maces and Vases, shop owned by Filia Ul Copt.

As usual Jillas and Gravos were helping Filia run her shop. That and taking care of the egg containing Valgaav: their former master and friend.

While Valgaav only saw them as potential henchmen in the beginning, the three knew that they shared a bond far more deeper than one between a master and his servants.

They had all suffered a major tragedy in their lives. All of them filled with violence, blood and death.

For Valgaav it had been the Dragon Massacre, where the Golden

Dragons exterminated his people, the Ancient Dragons. And the simple reason for this atrocity was fear. Fear of losing their place at the top of the dragon hierarchy. Fear of that which was different from them. A fear that exploded into an act of inhuman violence. None were spared.

For Jillas it was the destruction of his village through the hands of humans. He never knew the reason why, only that they had butchered without mercy. Without constraint. Without conscience. What was the reason for the hatred of man that provoked them into murdering others?

Gravos had been thrown out by his people, for unknown reasons. He never told Valgaav and Jillas what really happened, but judging from that had lost his eye, something really bad had happened. And since all three respected the other's privacy, no questions were asked.

====

Originally the three of them had served Demon Dragon King Gaav, also known as the Chaos Dragon.

Jillas was the inventor, sniper and demolition expert. A professional when it came to making explosives. One of his best inventions had been the recoilless cannon that could be fired when moving at high speed. Not to mention his orihalcon tank, impervious to most magic.

Gravos was the physical powerhouse and fighter. Using his fighting skills and strength to overcome most obstacles. That and that he was extremely hard to kill. How he survived Lina's Dragon Slave was beyond Jillas' knowledge.

Valgaav was the most powerful of them. Being Gaav's general, he had supplied them with most assignments, which consisted of various missions that would give Gaav a military advantage over the other mazoku, who wandered the continent known as the outer world by those confined in Phibrizzo's barrier.

When Gaav had been killed in battle, Valgaav set out on his private vendetta against those responsible for his demise. Lina Inverse and Xellos Metallium. He would even have tried to destroy the Hellmaster, if he had still existed.

The moment Lina Inverse had arrived on the continent, their master saw the opportunity to finally avenge Gaav. Having allied himself with an alien from another world for the time being, he set out on the path of bitter vengeance.

A lot had happened then. Things which Jillas and Gravos would try to forget. Something that almost caused the end of the world. The entity

Dark Star.

Dark Star was a darklord on par with Shabranigdo, existing on another plane. As it defeated the main god of this world and consumed it, or rather assimilated itself with it--the book of truth was opened....

Learning the truth of all existence. The macabre irony of fate. The two entities residing in one vessel turned mad.

Both wished for a renewal, as they were weary with the unending battle between the forces deemed good and those deemed evil. To end the grim parody which was their accursed fate. To end the eternal madness of eternal battle.

Luckily the plans of this cosmic horror were thwarted by "representatives" of mankind.

Valgaav who had also bonded with Dark Star, had miraculously been reborn, and Filia wishing to atone for the sins committed by her race chose to watch over the egg containing the last Ancient Dragon.

In the Aftermath, Jillas was overjoyed when he found out that Gravos had somehow survived his encounter with Inverse. Jillas suspected that Valgaav as Dark Star, somehow had managed to resurrect him. Especially since no mortal being could survive being flung into outer space, circling the planet for days.

====

While working for Filia wasn't any problem, a lot of the townspeople were sceptical towards them, since they weren't human beings. But in the end, the inhabitants of the city came to accept them in their own way.

Sometimes Jillas missed young Palu and his mother who had saved him from certain death. The young foxboy had looked up to him and had even begun to call him uncle. But he stayed with Filia out of loyalty towards Valgaav.

A few months ago he had discovered that he possessed the power to charge things with energy. Through research he had learned that somehow he could charge inanimate objects with kinetic energy, causing them to explode, if charged enough.

In secret he had found a spot where he could hone these powers, intrigued by the possibilities of what he could accomplish.

He discovered that he could kinetically charge up his bombs, making them even more powerful than usual. Heck, he could even charge up the bullets in his guns. If he ever had to face Inverse again...she would be in for a terrible surprise.

Today he and Gravos had their day off. Usually spending their time wandering around town, looking for interesting things. One of Jillas' hobbies was to read. Mostly he purchased books about science and development of technology. As a boy, he had been interested in obtaining knowledge. Reading most books involving mechanical science that he could obtain at that time, he learned several things that came in handy in the future. Gravos, not actually having much to do in his spare time, usually accompanied the foxman in his usual trips, but he did occasionally try his luck at gambling. Something he wasn't very good at.

It had been hard to handle the new shipment of rare pottery that Filia had purchased, since most of it was very fragile. They were lucky that nothing broke, or Filia would have their hides. Most of their conversation at that time, involved the rather absurd idea of opening a shop selling bludgeoning weapons and pottery/vases, and why it was actually a big success.

Suddenly they heard a man call out in terror.

A black shape dropped down from the sky, shaking the ground it landed on. It was a black dragon.

While dragons rarely attacked cities out of the blue and without reason, this one seemed keen on torching/devouring whatever came in its path.

Like a small child playing on the street.

The two looked in horror as the child cried out in terror, as the monstrosity roared while slowly approaching him, its maw open, fangs glistening. How its bulk toppled buildings that came in its path as it crawled closer and closer.

The little boy who had so recently only been playing with his ball, was paralyzed with fear. Possessing only the ability to scream at the scaled horror approaching.

Gravos was the first to react. Without hesitation, he was running, scaled legs pumping, heart pounding.

Funny, he never wanted to act like a hero. But something inside him had urged him to come to the boy's rescue.

Suddenly the very air around him crackled with the energy of his exertion, and was released in a supernatural manner as he transformed into a behemoth of organic steel.

The armoured Gravos snatched the boy out of harms way, delivering a powerful blow with his right fist. With a sickening crunch the dragon was hurled into the air by his punch, heading straight for the ocean, roaring with pain.

Jillas then reacted by charging up one of his bombs, and with a precision matched by only few, he hurled it straight at its airborne target.

As the bomb impacted, a tremendous explosion occurred, and the blazing chunks of what had been a dragon then hit the water like a burning meteor.

Gravos sighed out of relief and put the boy down, who scurried down the streets without looking back. He wondered if it was out fear of him that he ran, or that he was shocked beyond confusion.

(Probably shocked.) was the thought entering his mind.

When he discovered that he was a mutant, he chose to keep it as a secret, not wanting any trouble with anyone. His and Jillas' days as travelling bandits were over and the warrant on their heads were expired, so he saw no reason to stir up any commotion.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!" both of them shouted simultaneously to each other, both of them very surprised.

They were then suddenly interrupted.

#Gravos and Jillas, I wish to talk to you.# Professor X telepathically contacted them.

The two stared in awe at the man in the wheelchair, who had suddenly appeared. Surprised by the prospect of someone projecting his words into their minds.

Moments later...

"So you want us to come with you? But what about Filia and lord

Valgaav?" said the now normal Gravos, having earlier reverted back

to himself again.

It was as usual Gravos who did most of the talking. Jillas didn't call him "Boss" for nothing. Jillas was rather surprised by the words of Charles Xavier. He had told them seriousness of the situation and why he needed their help.

"Power such as yours should be used for the good of all. And know that in times like these that your powers are in need!"

"We first need to talk to Filia," Jillas interjected.

====

It had taken a while to explain everything to the former priestess of the Fire Dragon King.

As she sat there by the crib containing the egg, they saw a sad smile on her face.

"I should have known that the day would come sooner or later." Was the words she mouthed.

Jillas and Gravos looked at her with confusion etched on their faces.

"What do you mean?!" both cried out in unison.

"In my dreams I have seen the future regarding the both of you." she explained. "While this future might at first seem harsh and cold, it also offers friendship and warmth. When darkness rises, consuming the world, it shall be those bonds that will in the end prevail above all."

Both of them didn't know what to say to those cryptic words that came from Filia. Being raised on a continent where magic was rare, they were quite sceptical to spells and abilities that foresaw the future.

According to them, it was the gift of the gods to not know one's future. To foresee your own demise is not something you should take lightly, and quite often images of horror from the future reduced most magic users who delved too deeply in the art of divination, to raving madmen, unable to cope with what they saw.

A few hours later, words of tearful farewell were given and hugs were exchanged between the golden dragon and her two friends. Both of them promising to one day return.

Charles Xavier looked sadly at those happenings, feeling a slight regret for involving these five individuals in a something that would probably change the entire world. A change that would shake the foundations this world was built upon.

He suddenly felt a powerful sense of deja vu. Remembering a long time ago somewhat similar occurrences when gathering his second team of

X-Men.

"I certainly hope you know what you're doing, Chuck." a voice from the shadows said. "A swordsman turned depressive drunkard, a former warrior of justice turned sociopath, two former henchmen of a former villain and last but not least, a mysterious and *polite* half-orc!"

"I certainly hope so, Logan." he replied to Wolverine. " In the end, they will be this world's only hope...."

***

Author's Notes: I must be out of my mind to make one of the first X-Men/Slayers crossover fics in the world. Since I've never seen such a crossover before, I played with the prospect of making my first *real* fic something totally different from most other Slayers fics. You should note that I'm rather free with my spellings of certain characters, cities and places in the Slayers universe. Take Amelia's and Lina's native countries for example. Some spell them Saillune or Seyruun and Zeiphilia or Zeifiela and so on. Leon and Gurays/Grize, are characters from the various Slayers mangas I've read. Since all of them were mercenaries, I had the assumption that all three of them had served in the same mercenary army/unit. *spoiler*: Gourry was forced to kill Gurays when he tried to kill Lina. The reason for giving Gourry a military background, was that I wished to flesh out Gourry a little bit. Descending from a prestigious family in Elmekia, I don't see a reason for why members of the Gabriev clan shouldn't seek out a military career. They are a family of renowned swordsmen after all. This fic is also a reaction to the fics where Amelia and Gourry are portrayed unfairly, bashed and made fun of.

L/Z and L/X fans, I have nothing against your views on pairings in the Slayers Universe. It's just that I'm against unfair character bashings. I'm not accusing any of you to be character-bashers, so don't send me hate-mail! (I'm neutral to Slayers pairings).

Why Gourry has never suffered a mental breakdown due to Lina's physical abuse and all those insults she usually sprouts, is a mystery to me.

Darkspear Swordaxe is based on a D&D character I created. He's surprisingly polite for a half-orc, as long as you don't provoke him. You'll soon find out what his powers are.

In my fic the orcs in the Slayers universe are similar to the orcs seen in the Warcraft games, and not like those stupid pig-things in the first Slayers season! The same goes for those things that were described as dwarves in Try. (It's probably because I'm a former AD&D player that I'm complaining against how the orcs and dwarves are portrayed in Slayers).

Yuri is a character from C&C Red Alert 2 and the property of Westwood.

I know that it's not a very good fic, but at least it's a beginning for a newbie like me.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Slayers or any Marvel-related characters

Gourry. Jillas. Gravos. Amelia. Children of the atom, Outcasts, MUTANTS - feared and hated by a world they will soon have to protect. These are the STRANGEST heroes of all!

Chris Oddland presents: The Uncanny Slayers

Chapter 2: Brave New World.

* * *

On the outskirts of the rebuilt capital of the kingdom Xoana, lies a lone big mansion surrounded by a very large and long school gate. It is Professor Charles Xavier's newly opened school - The Xavier Institute For Higher Learning.

Inside this building are five of the most unlikely recruits this world had ever seen.

The shouts of, "YOU? " were suddenly echoing around the X-Mansion.

Gourry, Amelia, Gravos and Jillas were startled by seeing familiar faces around them. Darkspear was just confused.

"You know each other?"

While all four of them had parted as friends after the incident with Valgaav, Gourry did still bear a small grudge towards Jillas for stealing his Sword of frickin' Light.

All five of them were now wearing costumes composed of black leather. The only problem with those costumes were all the yellow X symbols on them. Even their belt buckles had an X on it. Jillas wore a black leather trenchcoat instead of the standard jacket.

The person who designed these probably had a very, very, very overblown ego problem. The leather clothes were nice though (even if they all had the urge to peel away all the X thingies on them).

"Ceiphed!" Amelia swore. "I suddenly feel like a stupid action figure right now!"

"You and me both, Amelia."

"Shut up, Jillas!" grumbled Gravos while feeling quite ridiculous wearing a leather jacket and leather pants.

"Actually it gives a certain militant look" pointed out Gourry. "Like it's us against the world."

Darkspear remained silent through the whole conversation, deeming it best to keep his mouth shut. He liked the uniforms.

Amelia took a good look at Gourry and said, "You look like hell, Gourry Gabriev."

"Same can be said about you." replied the mercenary humorously to his friend.

To be honest both of them didn't exactly look that well. Gourry was in need of a shave, looking quite unkempt despite his new clothes. He did also seem to have recovered from a serious hangover. Amelia on the other hand had some scars covering her face and lacked a few teeth, and she seemed more serious than before.

"I've had worse, old friend. You should see the scars covering my body if you think my face looks terrible."

"You've been busy, I see." Gourry said.

"Excuse me?" interrupted Gravos. "But what exactly happened to you two?"

"We had a little falling out with Lina and Zelgadis, and we split up." answered Amelia bitterly.

"So you guys actually disbanded?" questioned Jillas to the two humans.

"**Yes!**" growled Gourry. "Can you please stop talking about that backstabbing wench of a sorceress and that backstabbing dog of a chimera!"

"Looks like they've touched a sore spot there." commented Darkspear to Gourry.

"You stay out of this!" shouted Gourry to the half-orc.

"No need to be so bloody angry, sir!" Darkspear simply responded. "I didn't mean to insult you at all!"

"He's not mad at you, Mr. Swordaxe. He's just blowing off some steam and so on..." Amelia explained in a sour tone. "Lina and Zelgadis hurt us some time ago, and both of us still have trouble dealing with it."

"If it hurts to talk about it, then I won't ask any more about them," said Jillas as seriously as he could.

They spent the rest of the time marvelling at the technology that was contained in the mansion's living room. Almost everything surpassed the technological levels that existed around the world. And the most interesting fact was that none of these things were powered or created by magic.

"Look at this funny box!" said Darkspear, while prodding a box-shaped object with a glass-like window.

"What is it?" asked a curious Jillas.

"I don't know, but let's find out."

The foxman and the half-orc began touching the weird object and began to push a few buttons that seemed to stick out. Suddenly the window began to project images.

It showed a man being eaten by a mermaid with very sharp teeth. The poor man's throat was torn open by the she-creature's savage fangs. He did seem to scream before he died though.

"Ouch!" commented Amelia. "Poor guy!"

Suddenly the screen images were replaced by something different.

This time it was the intrigues in a noble court and the various conspiracies against each other. A pair of nobles were turning quite blue and purple from drinking the rare wine spiced with a rather exotic poison that began to slowly strangle them.

Amelia turned green at the sight, remembering the few horrible incidents at the Seyruunian court where poison was used. Some poisons were even resistant to Dicleary. Some of her relatives were killed that way in their internal struggle for the throne of Seyruun.

Gourry held a hand-sized black object that had many tiny buttons on it.

"What?" he said as the others began to stare at him. "It was just lying there on that table."

"Let me try!" said Jillas as he grabbed the object out of Gourry's hand and pressed another button.

This time the screen showed a mad scientist reanimating something which looked like a patched up flesh golem. Something he shouldn't have done since his creation began to wreck the laboratory and smash the madman to a rather bloody pulp.

"Now this is beginning to get interesting," commented the foxman and began to push several buttons, resulting in that the screen flipped from image to image, scene to scene.

"Stop that!" growled Gravos and seized the object from his friend and former subordinate. "My head gets dizzy from all the weirdness that that thing is broadcasting.

"Does anyone know how this thing works?" asked Darkspear.

He shouldn't have said that as this innocent question triggered Jillas' curiosity towards anything that had to do with technology.

"Let's find out," the foxman said.

* * *

"Are you certain that these people can help us?" Elisabeth Braddock asked Professor X.

"I am certain that they are up to the task, Elisabeth." replied Charles as they travelled towards the living room.

"You shouldn't be so sceptical of these people, Betsy," commented Neal Shaara to his purple-haired companion. "We've all been rookies in the past."

While Neal still considered himself a rookie compared to the more experienced members of the X-Men, he had still managed to be of some help to the team in his short time as an X-Man. Possessing the power to generate solar plasma he was himself a force to be reckoned with. The main problem was that he was in many ways a pacifist, not actually wanting to inflict any harm upon people. There were incidents where he used his power against the bad guys to help the others, but only to "subdue" them.

But there was one thing he never expected, that he would actually get into a relationship with Psylocke, one of the most experienced combat members in the X-Men.

When he first met her, she was in a relationship with Warren Worthington III, code-named Archangel, and it seemed that they got along quite well. On the surface at least.

It came as a shock to him when he discovered that they had broken up due to several incidents that had occurred. And he felt that he was somehow responsible for that, even if Betsy had told him many times afterwards that he wasn't to blame for that.

Probably because she didn't like that Warren was in fact trying to make her act like Jean Grey in their relationship. And that little incident where Warren's jealousy got the better of him. Personally he couldn't understand why Warren wanted to mould Elisabeth in Jean's image. Shouldn't people accept each other as they were?

It was rather weird to be the lover of a former British telepath, stuck in the body of a Japanese ninja, now a telekinetic action junkie. He would never admit it, but he seriously thought that the red tattoo covering the left side of her face was in some ways a little cute and in other ways strange.

She never really told him the details of how she got that Crimson Dawn tattoo, but the various pieces he put together suggested an ugly incident with Sabretooth and some kind of dimensional adventure with Warren.

Neal wished that he had the opportunity to meet Douglas Ramsey, code-named Cypher. Having heard of him from Betsy, he felt that maybe Doug would have been someone to talk to when it came to discussions about the feeling of uselessness in various situations. They would probably have understood each other a lot in some ways, knowing that Doug had problems accepting that his powers didn't give him a combat advantage and that he was forced many times to remain in the background, he on the other hand had qualms about harming other people, many times making him a nuisance to the other members. Most likely they would have envied each other. He would envy Doug for having a power that didn't harm others, and Doug would envy him for having a power that made him useful in fighting super-powered bad guys.

Sadly from the reports he had read, Doug died when he saved Wolfsbane from the Ani-Mator. It was one of the beginning factors of the many tragedies that gradually shaped the New Mutants into the more ruthless X-Force.

Betsy didn't show it to anybody, but Neal knew that she missed Doug, even if she wouldn't openly admit it to anyone.

Their relationship probably wouldn't be a long-term one, but it was nice to have someone to talk to when he felt that he didn't fit in the X-Men. Both of them could spend hours discussing former relationships, adventures and other various topics that concerned them at the time.

Suddenly he stopped in his tracks.

"Um, Betsy?"

"Yes, Neal?"

"Is it just me or have the newcomers just dismantled the telly?"

Having just arrived at the living room, Professor X and Psylocke halted their conversation and turned their heads towards where the newcomers were.

The one-eyed foxman had taken the TV apart with a screwdriver and was studying the various components inside it with the others. Luckily he had pulled out the extension cord before opening it, so that he didn't get electrocuted.

"This is really interesting." Murmured Jillas, holding an electrical component in his hands.

"What does this thing do again, Jillas?" asked Gravos while studying another part.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING!" roared a angry voice behind them.

All of them turned around and saw a very attractive purple-haired oriental woman with a strange red tattoo on the left side of her face glaring furiously at them accompanied by a bronze-skinned man that also seemed to come from an unknown country and the man known as Charles Xavier.

"What in the world possessed you to take apart the television!"

"So that's what they call that box-thingie," the foxman said.

"Yes! And now you've destroyed it." She added sourly.

"I wouldn't say that," answered the green/grey-skinned half-orc smilingly.

As he finished the sentence, the various parts strewn on the floor began to rise in the air. The parts being held were snatched out of the hands of Gravos and Jillas. Some of the parts hovered in front of the TV, while others circled around it. As if by magic the parts were placed piece by piece into the places they originally lay and fastened securely. After everything was in order, it seemed that nothing had ever happened with the TV.

"It's been a long time since I've done that!" Darkspear panted, his body covered in sweat.

"You're a telekinetic?"

"Yes, madam; but usually I never indulge myself in the manipulation of tiny matter. It's too straining for some reason…"

While Betsy Braddock wasn't surprised by the demonstration of telekinesis, she was in fact surprised that the half-orc was speaking with an accent somewhat similar to hers. In most fantasy literature she had read, orcs were quite coarse, stupid, evil and most of the time generic cannon fodder for the heroes of the story. This guy was quite unusual for what was considered the norm of Orc 616. But considering the thought that three of the recruits weren't human, she didn't bother quite that much in details. The X-Men and its European counterpart Excalibur had in the past had members that were non-human. Longshot and Cerise were good examples of that; she also remembered the techno-organic alien Warlock who had been a member of the New Mutants before his death and had been Doug's best friend.

"Let's get down to business," Gourry said, addressing both Professor X and the two accompanying him. " Just what in Ceiphed's name do you want us to help you with!"

"To be blunt," Charles Xavier began. "Certain students of mine have been abducted……again. And I want your help in freeing them from whoever is holding them captive."

"You said 'again'," implied Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun. "Do you mean that they get kidnapped on a regular basis?"

"You could say that." Commented Betsy sarcastically. "But we have gotten used to it in a way since we usually after numerous hardships, inhuman torture, trading insults and all that, manage to escape."

(Ceiphed's scales! What in the world have I gotten myself into?) Amelia mentally sighed. (At least they are sincere about it.)

"So we're actually their temporary stand-ins?" asked Gravos.

"I wouldn't actually say 'stand-ins'," Psylocke interrupted. "I would rather calling it recruiting emergency X-Men for a serious rescue operation."

"X-Men?" was Amelia's confused answer. At least it sounded better than the names of other groups she had ever encountered - like those posing musclemen who had a Clair Bible manuscript in their hoard.

"Let's just cut to the chase!" Jillas interrupted. "First we rescue your 'X-Men' and then we can begin ethical debates!"

"He's got a point," Gourry said. "None of us at the moment are really interested in debates and such - Let's just get the job over with!"

"Couldn't have said it any better, Gourry." Amelia interjected.

"Fine with me!" said Darkspear.

Charles Francis Xavier was now contemplating if it was really such a good idea to gather these people. He immediately regained his composure.

"It all began two days before when I detected the presence of a powerful entity in the Kataart Mountains in the kingdom of Dills. People in the vicinity of the mountains were mysteriously disappearing without a trace. The X-Men were sent to investigate it."

"And as usual, we were caught in an ambush." Continued Psylocke sarcastically. "Only me, Thunderbird and Bishop managed to escape. The rest were captured. And while the two of us were barely hurt, Bishop was badly wounded during our retreat."

She gave them the signal to follow her while walking towards a corridor. They followed her and ended up in the mansion infirmary. On a bed lay dark-skinned man with an M-shaped scar on his face connected to life-support systems. All of them saw that he bore the marks and scars of a seasoned warrior and survivor.

"We were attacked by a wizard named Shing Luu, a wizard from Khitai." Neal said, pushing a few buttons on a metallic panel and activated a giant monitor that began to project the image of a man.

The man was of oriental origin, wearing a flowing black robe woven of Khitan silk and decorated by images of strange dragons without wings. His aged face was marred with the wisdom, knowledge and cruelty of a cynic having unveiled the cosmic truths not meant to be known by any mortal being, and still miraculously survived but scarred for eternity. His hair was dark and long as well as his dark beard and moustache.

"I hate Khitan sorcerers," Gourry muttered, remembering the times the Elmekian army tried to invade and conquer lands in the far east, and how the powerful wizards of the east summoned horrors from the stars that made most mazoku pale in comparison and struck down by horrible plagues conjured by magic. He remembered how that arrogant officer of noble birth had thrown away the lives of many of those forced to serve in the penal regiments of Elmekia and how he and the men in his unit were almost driven mad by what they saw on the battlefield. They felt a lot better when they returned to the camp and threw the now "tongueless" dog of an officer into a pit full of venomous serpents. He himself had wielded the knife.

He didn't regret it. He remembered the orders to attack without any regard to tactics and formation as if the people in the penal regiment were nothing more than animals, expendable to the cause. He remembered one of his friends who survived the attack, driven to madness - and how they were forced to kill him when he attacked in a rage only madness could create.

Amelia ignored Gourry's comment as she studied the face of her enemy. As a child she had read books in the royal library about the ancient empire of Khitai that lay somewhere in the far east; she had read about a culture different to hers in many ways possessing knowledge and wisdom that made the wizards and sorcerers of Atlas City seem like mere ignorant children. She read about science discovered long before the people of her continent had the same idea.

Ironically she and her father had been tutored in the art of unarmed combat by a traveller from Khitai. He had been a mild-mannered man in his middle years, and enjoyed travelling and exploring places.

He had told her many tales and legends from his faraway homeland. About terrible wizards residing in enclosed towers protected by dark sorcery; about heroes fighting for just causes; the splendour and the dark sides of the ancient civilization; about poverty and oppression; people abusing their power.

He had taught her much before he went away, and she remembered the macabre tales told. How wizards brooded in towers, practicing their dark arts and tormenting the innocent as tyrants.

"It is in our belief that he is trying to perform some sort of ritual, using the life-force of living people to fuel it." Psylocke continued as the display screen now shifted to the images of corpses. The corpses seemed as if they were dried out, as if something had slowly sucked the life of them, their eyes and mouths revealing last moments of inhuman pain before dying. "We don't know what it is, but seeing from the enormous pile of dead people, we're talking about something big.

Jillas who was used to acts of cruel violence was repulsed by this. He never liked magic, even though Lord Valgaav and Gaav themselves made use of it when it was needed. Gaav being an amalgam of human and mazoku due to the curse laid on him by the Water Dragon King over a thousand years was immune to most of the weaknesses of the mazoku, now being able to use weapons and channel magic to an extent like a human without ever fearing for that it would damage and weaken him like most ordinary mazoku. Valgaav was on the other hand an Ancient Dragon who had been turned into Gaav's general, replacing the post of his former general Rashart who with the priest Ralthark were destroyed in the War of The Monster's Fall, becoming an amalgam of dragon and mazoku.

"This doesn't look good," the one-eyed foxman muttered.

A hand was lain on his shoulder. "Believe me, I've seen a lot worse in my time."

"What are you talking about, Gourry?" Amelia asked him.

"A failed mercenary job a few months before meeting Lina," Gourry explained, " me and some mercs came over a hidden temple dedicated to some dark and alien gods where we found the corpses and remains of people sacrificed for a ritual meant to summon something from an abyss to conquer a backwater kingdom. Most of them had already been sacrificed on the blood-stained altar of the God That Time Forgot. We freed the remaining prisoners and killed the cult operating from the temple, but we were unable to stop the high priest from chanting the last words that opened some kind of portal, even if I cut his spinal cord with my sword. Some kind of monster came out of it and began slaughtering anyone inside the temple. We were then forced to burn the temple to the ground with the thing still inside it after it had butchered almost everyone.

"That doesn't sound like one of your average adventures with _you know who_?" Jillas responded.

"Why didn't you use the Sword of Light?" Gravos asked.

"Didn't have it with me at that time. I hid it somewhere safe to prevent someone from stealing it before taking that mission." Gourry replied.

"Who was it?" Gravos asked.

"Someone you would never wish to meet in person." The mercenary replied.

"In fact while we normally never get involved in occult matters, preferring to leave that job to other specialized groups," Charles Xavier continued, "There have been incidents where we are forced to act against adversaries utilizing magic."

* * *

A few hours later the SR-71 Blackbird arose from the hidden hangar, propelled by its modified rear thrusters with a speed that until now was regarded as impossible by the newcomers.

Jillas stared in awe as the Blackbird soared through the air, marvelling at how someone could make a vehicle composed of metal that could soar through the air faster than the speed of sound.

Most of them had in fact gawked when they saw the private aircraft of the X-Men and were sceptical of that it could in fact lift off the ground.

"It will take a little time before arriving at the mountains." Betsy Braddock said while handling the ship controls, piloting the craft skilfully as it raced towards its designated landing spot.

Each member was caught up in their private thoughts.

Gourry thought sadly about what might have been between him and Lina. He could never bring himself to hate her fully, despite everything. Zelgadis was a different matter. He had been what Gourry was not. He was both a competent swordsman and shamanist, intelligent, a scholar, always overshadowing him when it came to almost everything except swordplay. What was he labelled? Just an idiot mercenary who used to have a powerful weapon. He always hated those nicknames that insulted him. Always would he be the fool of the group, rarely acknowledged as a rational human being.

He remembered the days as a captive of Hellmaster Phibrizzo. How bit by bit the thing passing as a boy managed through inhuman torture to break his mind and place him under a spell which enabled him-, no, **it** to control him. He also remembered how he finally awoke from his trance and to his horror realized that Lina before his eyes was going to be engulfed by the Sea of Chaos, how he chased her through that all-consuming darkness. Then his memories became blank, only remembering the two of them arriving back in their own world.

Amelia was brooding. She traced her left hand over one of the scars on her face. It was a token of remembrance of one of the many enemies she made in Atlas City when she single-handedly took on a group smuggling the dangerous drug known as "Kick". While most drugs were generally dangerous when it came to addiction and the danger of overdosing, this drug could actually increase the magical potential and power of any spellcaster by five times for five hours. The biggest problem with this drug was that the users became extremely psychotic after using it and that overdosing could cause the users to burn out their powers, or outright kill them, as the increased powers destroyed them from the inside like a festering disease. She remembered a friend: a shrine maiden from Seyruun who had been trained alongside her back then. How she had found her when she was lost, tired and disillusioned on the cold streets of Atlas City; that she took her in despite that she had problems of her own. Amelia had been grateful for that.

How an overdose of "Kick" slowly killed her as the increased magic coursing through her body was too much for her to handle and disfigured her beyond recognition. And the grotesque scene playing for her eyes as she spasmed and died screaming - no begging her to kill her. How her began to glow like a tiny star and her screams as she simply disintegrated into pure magical energy.

She swore revenge after her funeral, and single-handedly searched the city for days after the group. She finally found their hideout in an old warehouse after "persuading" a dealer to give her the whereabouts of his "friends".

It was during that day that she finally dared to make use of the frightening power within her. A power she was afraid she wouldn't control. The power to manipulate the very weather itself. She felt an inhuman ecstasy as she blasted her enemies with bolts of lightning, hurling them away with her winds, fully enjoying the power within her.

One of them got lucky and slashed her in the face with a razor-sharp knife.

He died.

Then all became a red blur. And minutes later she stood outside while the warehouse burned in the night like a funeral pyre.

Strangely none of what she did bothered her at all. True she had killed people with magic in the past like bandits and her uncle Randy in the heat of battle, but all these times she had relied on her beliefs of justice induced into her mind by her father that told her that bad people deserved to die since they simply were evil and it was justice. Now no longer restrained by those old black and white views, it felt good to cut loose without any restraint or listening to that strict old-fashioned drivel about justice, enjoying a form of destructive freedom.

She was an angel of darkness now. Free from all the chains of the royal family of Seyruun.

And the wicked would whisper throughout the city of this dark angel in fear, praying to whatever deities they could that she would never find them.

But she did.

Meanwhile Jillas and Gravos were sitting next to each other, discussing old times. How it was like working for Gaav and Valgaav. They remembered foiling several of the other mazoku generals' attempts to gain strategic foothold outside of Phibrizzo's barrier, by killing most of their mortal agents. Valgaav had taken care of the mazoku sent after them. He remembered a vivid image of Lord Valgaav ripping one of Phibrizzo's underlings to pieces and slamming the horn on his head through its head as the grand coup de grace. It had been rather messy. Life serving the two had never been very boring to their knowledge.

Jillas remembered how Valgaav finally had allowed him to take his revenge on the butchers who murdered his tribe. Through his powers Lord Valgaav had managed to trace all of them and even gave him a list of names as he created visual projections of each of them. Each face he imprinted in his mind, feeling old wounds resurface again. The worst had been how they murdered and tortured the defenceless cubs and violated the screaming women and slit their throats after they were finished and how there leader had laughed as he poked out his eye with his knife while he was pinned and made him watch in horror. How he laughingly left him to die as the left with the stolen belongings of the Red Fox Tribe. Valgaav had found him half-mad when he had rescued him.

Accompanied by Gravos he took his revenge.

By fire, explosives and bullets they fell. He made them watch as he and Gravos and their lizardmen executed their families for their crimes. He enjoyed putting bullets through their necks or let Gravos kill them as the pleading monsters begged for the lives of their loved ones. He didn't listen.

He remembered how he single-handedly stormed the castle of the only one left.

The leader.

How he without effort killed the guards with ease.

He remembered slitting the throat of his beautiful wife while slowly telling her of her beloved husband's "adventures" and how he launched their only son off the castle wall and down on the ground. He concluded that it was impossible for the young boy to discover the secret of flight by shooting him out with a cannon and over the parapet. It had been messy.

He remembered fighting the so-called noble knight when the charges he had placed finally detonated and brought the entire castle on top of them.

He had managed to crawl out of the rubble and brought back to Lord Valgaav by the mazoku Kanzel, who had applauded him for the terror he had inspired that day. It had been a strange experience to be teleported back to headquarters by Kanzel. Out of all of Gaav's minions he had been a master of dimensional manipulation. Able to create incredible pocket dimensions out of his will alone.

But the revenge could never extinguish the emptiness he felt - the empty void in his soul made him even more eager to fanatically serve Lord Valgaav in the end.

Ironically people around the continent had named him the Devil Fox and spoke of him in fear. Both he and Gravos had gained a reputation as cruel and vicious bandits and killers by the human populace. That made their raids easier since the penalty for resisting them was death. It had been a strange feeling seeing humans actually fear him. As a child he like many other beastmen had been afraid of humans, fearing the day they would come with fire and steel, and murder them all in cold blood. It gave him a sense of power. And this feeling made him in the end vulnerable when Lina Inverse landed on the shores of his continent.

What he hated in Lina Inverse was the helplessness he felt when she utilized her powerful spells. The same helplessness he felt when the humans slaughtered his people. He showed her in the end when he managed to use a divide and conquer tactic against them in the temple. While people like Lina were geniuses and powerful, they tended to underestimate most beastmen. Their loss.

He knew that beastmen were generally like most people. They were of varied personalities and ethics. Some were good people. Some were sadistic monsters. Some were indifferent. Some were racists to the core. Some envisioned peace among all races.

His people hadn't deserved to die.

* * *

Soon the ritual would be complete and he would attain powers beyond that of any mortal man.

Gazing into the black cauldron filled with the blood of virgins who had died screaming on the black altar as he held aloft his jade dagger over their heaving chests as they struggled with their shackles before thrusting downwards with all his strength. Their dying screams echoing throughout the tower.

"So those who escaped have gained aid from others like them." The oriental man mused calmly as he stroked his long beard.

Using an on old spell obtained from ancient and cruel Stygia he scryed at the people depicted inside the metallic flying machine that were revealed in the large pool of blood as images were formed before his very eyes.

Walking to a brass bowl supported by a small iron pole that was attached to the stone floor, he threw a strange black powder into it as flames erupted from nowhere inside the bowl and green smoke erupted from it as he applied red incense.

He kneeled before the churning bowl, his arms held up high as he entered a trance.

_Dark gods beyond the hidden gulfs which never knew the sun._

_I beseech thee to send me your servants to do my bidding._

_You who are trapped beyond the vast cosmos, I call on you._

_Serve my will or be forever banished into the shadows._

_You who live among the stars and prey upon the weak._

_Serve the biddings of your gods and mine._

_Come._

**_COME!_**

****

Into the dark room a darkness darker than ever before erupted from nothing. As it dissipated four hulking figures stood before him.

Massive they were, looking like tremendous gargoyles of living stone. Their eyes were black unblinking orbs of darkness. Their jaws massive and decorated with shark-like teeth and their huge arms and legs revealed powerful muscles and sharp claws and nails. Their wings resembled those of a giant bat, large and intimidating.

Shing Luu pointed towards a window. "Go!" he commanded imperiously. "Kill the intruders and feast upon their flesh!"

The beasts howled in unholy joy as they rushed towards the window and hurled themselves out in the air as they began flapping their powerful wings and propelled themselves into the direction of their prey. Their howls were like no beast that had ever trod its feet on the earth of this plane. Alien and sinister.

Shing Luu smiled.

The four powerful Shar'gai would kill them easily.

* * *

"Heads up, mates!" Psylocke cried out as the radar started making erratic signals. "Four objects! And they are heading right for us!"

* * *

_Next: Our unlikely heroes struggle against inhuman horrors as the sorcerer tries to chant the spell to resurrect the piece of Shabranigdo trapped since the War of the Monster's Fall - The powerful archmage Lei Magnus._

_Dark Lord Rising!_

* * *

Okay, I admit that this chapter is inspired by the old Conan the Barbarian and Savage Sword of Conan comics by Marvel. I've always thought the dark magic of the Hyborian Age would spice up the story.


End file.
